


cling to the hope that springs eternal in the human breast

by whytho



Series: Delinquent AU [2]
Category: Paranatural (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, a shocking amount of johnny jhonny, also swear words ofc, as usual, baseball and friendship, delinquent au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 16:25:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8899237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whytho/pseuds/whytho
Summary: Johnny’s vision was turning purple. The edges of his eyes were spotted with lavender and lilac and plum, and every time he turned his head too fast, he saw phantom purple shapes, all of them moving through the air. Max had baseball practice every single day. (or: Max gets a varsity jacket, Johnny tries out the cloak of friendship, and spirits make themselves visible. Life in Mayview happens somewhere in between.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> okay so if you've already read the first two works in the Delinquent AU then this one comes right in between them and starts to explain Max joining the AC, Johnny and spirits in this AU, and Johnny's interaction with the AC. 
> 
> If you haven't, then you should probably read the first one in this series before you read this. 
> 
> (this was written in one day when I should have been doing my homework, I'm very sorry for any errors. title comes from a bastardized line of Casey at the Bat, by Ernest Lawrence Thayer.)

Max was trying out for the baseball team. 

Johnny thought he was ridiculous, listening to his conversation with Ollie from the kitchen, tile pressed smooth against his feet. As he filled a glass of water, Ollie pointed out the annoyance of daily practice and training schedules, and RJ rolled their eyes at Max’s attempt to explain the sanity of meal plans. 

“It’s not that bad, okay?” Max told them, mouth pressed into a tight line, and Johnny shoved his pills into his mouth and gulped down water before pointing out that it kind of was, really. 

Stephen tamped down a laugh, Ollie rolled his eyes, and Max let a flush rise up his cheeks, making its way across his ears and piercings before pulling it off and scowling at them. 

“Fuck all of you,” he said, “except RJ. RJ can stay.” 

“That is blatant favoritism,” Stephen protested, and RJ laughed smooth and soft, and they all unanimously let the matter drop. 

Still, that Monday after school, they all showed up to watch him try out. Johnny leaned himself against the chain link fence surrounding the field, eyes fixed on Max’s sprints around the bases. RJ climbed to the very top of the fence and perched there, birdlike, peering out of their hoodie at the boys below them. Ollie laid back on the grass, knees higher than his head, and Stephen sat behind them all, sprawled across the bleachers like seaweed spread throughout the ocean. 

None of them spoke- the wind was cheering for Max enough, early March chill whistling through their ears. Johnny felt heavy and weighed down inside his jacket, limbs both warm and cold, and he watched Max run endless drills with no little wonder. 

The boys in the diamond moved to throwing. Max’s shots moved fast and low- hard to catch and hard to hit, as was made clear when the group continued on to pitching. 

“I’m not an expert on baseball,” Ollie said quietly, breaking the wind and the silence apart, “but Max is pretty damn good at it.” 

Johnny had to agree. 

 

 

Max made the team. 

No one was surprised when he told them on the walk home. His voice was tight as he admitted it, like he expected them to laugh, and Johnny inspected the purple-streaked sunset and said nothing. Next to him, RJ slipped their arm through Max’s, Stephen clapped him on the shoulder, Ollie told him something about the sanctity of the sport, and Max’s shoulders relaxed a fraction. 

They ambled around town until the lilac sunset turned into indigo night, until Johnny could see the lights of the corner store’s sign flicker into life. He pointed down the hill, down the spiral of roads they had taken to get to the top, and glanced back at Max, posing an unspoken question. 

Max nodded in response. 

He tilted his head to one side, dark eyes bright in the streetlight, and a sharp grin tore apart his face. He wiggled slightly- RJ took the hint and jumped off his hips- and then took a few steps back, out of the road and onto the side. 

To Stephen, he held out a hand, licking his lips to hold his smile down. Stephen tossed his skateboard over, wordless, and Johnny watched the scene before him with a thousand questions running through his mind. 

Max dropped the skateboard on the ground and rolled it beneath his feet a few times, testing it out. Then he took a step back. 

His grin grew, wild and genuine, and he pushed himself off the hill. 

The response was immediate- RJ whooped wildly, yells rising through the night, and Johnny felt all the air in his chest leave in a single burst of breath. Stephen was grinning wide, nostrils flared and eyes ecstatic, and Ollie was smiling, childlike, and the night air was cold and bright against Johnny’s skin and palms and the space between his shoe and the hem of his jeans, and the lights stretched out across Mayview were the loveliest things he had ever seen in his existence. 

Max floated in the air for a split second, body curled over the skateboard, and RJ’s howls were echoing infinitely in Johnny’s head as he watched Max push himself through the indigo sky, weightless and heavy at the same time, all spotlights focused on him. 

Then Max was hitting the pavement below, wheels striking the concrete, and he was pushing himself off the edge of that road too, then the next, until he reached the street his house was on. 

Several roads above, Stephen yelled down at him, “Give me my board back tomorrow, yeah?” 

Max tilted his head back, teeth glinting, and returned, “Whenever I see you assholes next!” 

Then he was raising an arm in farewell and sprinting back to his house, and they were all watching his figure disappear. 

No one mentioned it on the way home, but Johnny replayed the moment of Max’s free fall as he laid in bed that night, watching and rewatching that second of an existence without gravity, the way Max had to force himself back down to the ground. 

 

 

Johnny’s vision was turning purple. 

The edges of his eyes were spotted with lavender and lilac and plum, and every time he turned his head too fast, he saw phantom purple shapes, all of them moving through the air. 

He was fairly certain he was going insane, but he wasn’t really trying to think about that. 

 

 

Max had baseball practice every single day. 

Johnny would be severely annoyed by it if he didn’t like hanging out by the baseball field so much, yelling profanities at the players and enjoying the view their tight uniform provided. 

Once Violet from Johnny’s English class and Ed Burger, resident friendly weirdo, had joined them on the bleachers to cat call the shortstop, and Johnny had learned that a) the shortstop’s name was Cody Jones, and b) Cody Jones blushed viciously when Johnny shouted atrocities about his leg muscles. 

Later that week, he winked at Cody in the hallway and, for his efforts, received a wonderful view of cheeks the color of strawberries.

Johnny also enjoyed hanging out with the people who spent their time in the smoking hole after school. Granted, it was mostly people skipping detention or waiting for their ride home, and those weren’t exactly the illustrious company he was renowned for keeping, but he liked them all the same. They always had a cigarette to spare for him, and were perfectly willing to help him with his homework. 

So really, waiting around for Max to finish with his stupid baseball wasn’t that much of a burden for Johnny. 

When Max headed out one late March day, Johnny and RJ were ready for him. Lounging on the bench next to his locker, Johnny carefully observed the local wildlife as Max changed, and it took almost no time at all for Max to slam his locker shut and tell them, “Alright, let’s go.” 

No one said where they were going, just followed Max’s long strides until they found themselves at the corner store. Zoey was manning the counter inside, Johnny could see, long reddish hair falling everywhere as she scanned a customer’s items. The fluorescents falling through the window did things to Max’s short hair, turned it shiny and a darker brown than it was, and the resemblance to Zoey behind him was like a shadow on his face. 

Something in the shadow of the corner store looked purple, but Johnny thought it was just a trick of the light. 

Max nodded to the corner store. “You guys wanna come in?” 

RJ twisted their lips together, rueful, and shook their head. 

“Sure,” Johnny said, and licked his lip. 

The bell on the electric doors rang as they slid open, and Zoey looked up from her homework. “Oh, you again,” she said, smiling faintly at Max, and tilted her chin in acknowledgement at Johnny. “You better have remembered that it’s your shift,” she told them, hopping off the stool behind the counter. 

“Shit,” Max said.

Somewhere above them, Johnny heard his father yell, “Don’t curse in the store!” but it was faint, and he doubted Max cared. 

Zoey smirked at him. “Yeah,” she said, then threw over her shoulder, “Jailbait can stay if he helps man the store! We’ll even throw in dinner.” 

Max looked to him; Johnny shrugged. “I always support dinner,” he said. 

 

 

From there, they reached a habit. On the days it was just Johnny and Max, they worked at the corner store- Johnny mostly restocked shelves and lazed around the back room while Max stayed at the cash register and worked on something, fiddling with pencils and paper and thoughts, but it was a good way to pass time, Johnny thought. Once, when Zoey was still on her shift and Max was napping shirtless in the back room, he got to see the full splendor of the tattoos stretching across his back. 

Their father came down when he was looking at all of them and paused for a moment at the foot of the stairs. Johnny didn’t blush- it would hardly match his hair- but he did swallow dryly. 

“He got them a couple of months before we came here,” the father Puckett said, leaning against the doorway of the back room. He was watching his son with careful eyes, soft and delicate, like he was trying not to wake him with his gaze. “It was all very illegal, I think, but he really wanted them and I- I thought it wouldn’t be the worst way he could… act out.” 

“They’re very pretty,” Johnny told him. 

His father turned that soft gaze to him and smiled tightly. “They were his mother’s, first.” 

Johnny didn’t know how to respond to that. When he laid in bed thinking the exchange over, he never really figured out the right response. 

 

In April, Johnny met Isaac O’Connor. 

He’d seen him in the halls before- Mayview High was too small to not learn the general population’s faces- but he’d never even stood face to face with the guy until he’d shown up at the corner store on a Thursday night, looking thoroughly rumpled and exhausted. 

Johnny figured he must be a junior. 

Juniors were usually rumpled. 

The guy slammed two protein shakes, a box of donuts, and a salad down on the counter on Johnny’s second ever shift at the register, more tired and irritated than most juniors ever were, and Johnny didn’t even attempt to make conversation. The guy paid, grabbed his goods, left; Johnny watched him go, orange hair sticking straight up in the air like he’d been running his hands through it all night. 

Then the guy opened the passenger door of a sleek black car, the type Stephen ogled in parking lots, and Johnny decided that maybe someone else had been running their hands through his hair all night. The car ate pavement as it sped away, churning out purple tinted exhaust, and Johnny promptly forgot about the encounter. 

At least, he forgot about until he bumped into the guy at school a week later. 

“C’mon, Isaac,” a pretty dark haired girl coaxed, and Johnny was so distracted by the swing of her hair that he ran straight into her Isaac.

“Watch where you’re going!” he barked, automatic, then glanced down at the boy gathering up his books. 

The guy- Isaac- looked up at him, lips twisting together, and frowned a little. Max, beside Johnny, shifted uncomfortably. Finally, Isaac stood, books clutched to his chest, and frowned at Johnny for another beat. Next to him, the pretty girl raised an eyebrow. 

“Well,” Max interrupted, “this was a fucking delight, Isaac, just- great to see you, really, but we have to meet some people now, so if you’ll excuse us-” 

He made his exit, clutching Johnny’s arm, and on the way to Ollie’s locker Johnny didn’t even try to puzzle out the oddness of that encounter. He didn’t even try. 

 

 

Max played third base. Johnny made several innuendos about it since Max got his position. Max scowled at him every time, but Stephen always grinned, so Johnny figured it was worth it. 

In the fourth game of the season, Mayview was down two in the ninth inning with one out, and after Cody Jones, Max was up to bat. There was already someone on first- one of Ollie’s football friends, a muscle-bound guy Johnny had once made uncomfortable in the locker room. Johnny was on the edge of his seat, the chill bleachers biting through his jeans to let the numbness of his ass fade his excitement, and RJ bounced up and down next to him. On his other side, Stephen was tense with excitement. 

Cody hit low and fast and makes it to second base. The guy on first turned into the guy on third.

Max was a good batter, according to Ollie. Ollie knew a lot about sports, and, leaning over Johnny’s shoulder, he muttered about batting averages and the likelihood of Max getting a good hit, and Johnny didn’t understand much of it, but Ollie’s warm breath against his ear comforted him at least a little. 

Max stood up from his squat, metal bat clenched tight in his hands. The catcher was making signs behind him, quick little hand movements that made Johnny more nervous than he could say, and Max nodded and the pitcher nodded and the umpire nodded and a ball was thrown. 

Max hit it but hit it wrong. His bat clanged dully and he stood, one hand shading his eyes, to watch the ball fly hard against the fence. 

“Foul!” the umpire called, and it echoed through the silent stands. 

The pitcher winded up again. 

Max didn’t hit the ball that time. 

“Striiiiiike one!” the umpire called. 

The pitcher curled up his white and blue body, ball clutched tight to his chest. He twisted; he stepped; he threw. 

Max hit the ball. 

Johnny couldn’t quite see it in the pale gray sky, but apparently Max could, because he took off running for first base. Cody followed suit, going for third, and then Johnny saw the ball fall down in the outfield, small and heavy, like gravity was trying too hard when it touched the ball. The guy on third slid past the catcher. 

Cody made it home. 

Max was still making his way around the bases when someone in the outfield finally got the ball, standing up with a yell and chucking it at the shortstop. By then, Max was already at third and then past it, so the shortstop stepped forward to throw it to the catcher, and then, in a scuffle of dirt and dust, the catcher got the ball and Max went for home plate and the umpire yelled, waving his arms frantically. 

When the cloud cleared, Max was still panting on home. The catcher held the ball tight in his fist and, with bated breath, Johnny heard the umpire shout, “Safe!” 

Stephen was howling before Johnny even realized, and the rest of the game was a blur. 

They won, though, and Johnny found out exactly how wild the baseball team’s parties really were. 

 

 

The next time Isaac came to the corner store, he brought his pretty friend and Edward Burger with him. 

They slid into the corner store, panting and dripping with sweat, and Max stood up from the stool behind the till before Johnny realized, looking incredibly confused. “Hey,” he started, jaw tight, before cutting himself off. 

“Sorry, uh, person,” Ed told him, breath heavy, “We’re just... taking a break here for a while. ‘Cause we were… jogging. Yeah.” 

“Don’t bullshit me,” Max told them, voice hard. “You guys are running from that thing, right? You can see it too?” 

Johnny sat up from his place on the counter to see Isaac- Isaac, from the strange encounter in the hall- go wide-eyed. The girl next to him bit her lip before telling Max definitely, “Yeah. Yeah, we are.” 

“ _Fuck,_ ” Max said. “Christ. Am I really not crazy?” 

“Yeah, no, you’re not crazy,” Ed Burger said brightly, waving around a comically large paintbrush. “‘You’re just as sane as I am,’ and all that.” 

“What the hell is this?” Johnny demanded. “What the hell are you all talking about?” He looked out the corner store’s front window, to where Max was pointing, and all the breath he had in him rushed out when he saw a hazy purple shape, large and undefined, staring back at him. 

“Oh, _shit,_ ” the girl said as Johnny scrambled back behind the counter. The ghost of purple in the street was defining itself a little, and Johnny did not like what he saw, not in the slightest. 

“What the hell,” he repeated. “Did my doctor accidentally prescribe me some hallucinogenic bullshit or something, because I am definitely seeing things.” 

Max laughed next to him, dry and brittle. The sharp sound of it did not help Johnny in the slightest. 

“Wait,” Isaac O’Connor said, “Is the redhead seeing things too? Max, what is going on?” 

Max pushed the cash register’s tray out with the little button, then pushed it back in. He laughed a little again, the sound still slightly unhinged, and told Isaac, “I have been seeing things since I came to this town, and apparently someone else has been too.” 

Isaac, Ed, and the girl didn’t say anything, until Ed, seemingly impressed, told them, “Wow. Two in one’s a pretty sweet deal.” 

Johnny was unbearably, intolerably confused. 

“So,” Max said, sounding incredibly okay with what the situation was, “are you gonna do something about that thing?” 

Johnny looked up at the huge purple thing outside, the thing that everyone else was regarding with something akin to boredom, and was even more weirded out- the blob had started jiggling, as far as Johnny could tell. He didn’t want to be able to tell. He didn’t want to see it at all, really.

“Nah,” the girl decided. “It’ll go away eventually.” 

It may go away, Johnny thought, but all the other weird stuff going on might not.

**Author's Note:**

> Ed quotes Luna Lovegood from Harry Potter in the last scene.
> 
> Johnny def takes meds in this, for reasons that you are allowed to think of yourself, but yes they are definitely a thing. Johnny is also Not Straight. Johnny is also Hard Core, but you probably already know that. 
> 
> also???? I'm not really sure what I'm gonna do with this AU?? like don't get me wrong I love it but like the characterization has gotten a lil funky to me and I'm not tots sure what I'm doing so like. We'll see. We'll see. but if I do continue I will be doing some stuff with the Journalism Club next, and also maybe some stuff with Izzy and Ed. I'm not sure, we'll see.


End file.
